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Ek Gaon ki Kahaani (1957)

What is it about Bengali directors—Bimal Roy, for instance, or Hrishikesh Mukherjee, or (if one steps out of the realm of just Hindi cinema, Satyajit Ray)—that they manage to bring so vividly to life the everyday happenings in the lives of everyday people? Not the escapist fare that most people tend to equate Hindi cinema with, but stories about real people, people one can relate to? Films like Majhli Didi, Parivaar, Parakh, Sujata, Anand: not larger than life, not without a shred of reality. Not art films, not angst-riddled, songless films about the search for the meaning of life, but everyday stories. Songs and all, still very much commercial cinema, but easy to relate to.

Add to that list Dulal Guha, who while he also went on to make films like Mere Humsafar, began his career as a director in Hindi cinema with this charming little film about a sleepy village named Chandangaon, that’s jolted by the arrival of a new doctor…

But before we get around to the doctor, we’re introduced to Ratan (Abhi Bhattacharya), the hot-head of Chandangaon. Ratan lives with his wife Maya (Nirupa Roy, for once childless) and his shrewish mother (no prizes for guessing who: Lalita Pawar). Ratan and Maya love each other in a very believable sort of way: she snaps at him for going off to drink toddy every other day; he snaps right back at her—but when his mother tries to berate Maya for not having conceived in all these years, it is Maya whom Ratan sides with.

Ratan, armed with a little brass lota to buy himself some toddy, finds a tonga stuck in the mud, and on enquiring, discovers that the nattily dressed, suit-clad passenger (Talat Mahmood) is the new doctor for the government dispensary of Chandangaon. Ratan, lending a hand to haul the tonga out of the mud, hands the lota to the doctor to hold—and, the job accomplished, forgets to take it back.

The scene now shifts to the doctor’s destination: the government dispensary, where—in the absence of the appointed doctor—the compounder, Gokul (IS Johar) has been holding the fort. And practicing homoeopathy, not just on humans, but on the villagers’ animals as well. He is fiercely protective of his homoeopathy and is ready to fly at the throat of anybody who dares to be sceptical.

Gokul lives in a little home next to the dispensary, along with his somewhat tomboyish daughter Jaya (Mala Sinha). Jaya, observes the local sarpanch, Dayashankar (Bipin Gupta), when he comes visiting Gokul, is now grown up. Gokul should, he hints, be looking for a groom for her. And who better than Dayashankar’s own son, Shiv (?). Gokul is non-committal, though. He probably knows, as does the rest of the village, that Shiv, besides being hard of hearing and not much to look at, is also somewhat of a simpleton.

Dayashankar tells his sister (Dulari), who keeps house for him, that he’s confident Gokul will agree. All said and done, Dayashankar is, after all, the sarpanch—the President of the Gram Panchayat. Nothing to be sneezed at. But why should he want Jaya for Shiv, his sister wonders. Oh, says Dayashankar: hasn’t she heard the rumours? Everybody says Gokul has savings worth thousands stashed away in the ground of his yard. He’s a wealthy man, really.

Meanwhile, Gokul gives Jaya instructions to clean the upstairs room for the doctor, and to prepare food for him too. The doctor, as has been the custom so far, will be eating with them, and Jaya will be keeping house for him.
While Gokul goes off on an errand, Jaya sets about cleaning the room—and singing to herself of what she thinks the new doctor is going to be like. Like all the previous doctors: old, half-blind, ugly, deaf and limping…

… so, when the doctor arrives and barges into the room, she gets a bit of a start. This is not at all what she had been expecting.

There is confusion; the Doctor (he’s actually referred to, throughout the film, only as Doctor, so we never get to know what his name is) has heard her song, and is amused. Probably because he realizes that he is not the sort of doctor she’s expecting; probably because her bewildered embarrassment in seeing him is deliciously complimentary to him, too. At any rate, Jaya welcomes him in stumbling words, tells him that this is where he’ll be boarding and lodging, and scurries off to get his meal ready.

That evening, just as they’re beginning to eat dinner, there’s a visitor. This is a man from the settlement of fisherfolk. Someone is ill and needs help urgently; will the doctor please come? Gokul tries to stop Doctor; the fisherfolk are outside the pale. They, even if they live on the outskirts of the village, are not part of the village community. He shouldn’t be treating them.

Doctor replies that he’s a doctor; it is his duty to heal, and it doesn’t matter who the patient is. Thank you for the advice, but he’s not going to be heeding it. In any case, not only is he bound by the Hippocratic Oath and his own beliefs, but also by the rules of his employment by the government: the government expects him to treat everybody.

Despite Gokul’s protests, Doctor hurries off to attend to his patient.

Some days later, the ‘President’ (as Gokul calls Dayashankar) confronts Doctor about treating the fisherfolk, and Doctor basically repeats the arguments he’d given Gokul. This irritates the President no end, but after expressing a hope that better sense will prevail, he takes himself off. The only one of the men who doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with Doctor treating the fisherfolk is Ratan. He supports Doctor in this, and in just about everything else as well. Ratan is Doctor’s best friend in Chandangaon.

Meanwhile, as the days go by, Doctor and Jaya fall in love. And go about singing a song by the riverside, where they’re seen by all and sundry… As a result of which, soon the entire village has pretty much realized how things are between these two.

And that, basically, is what the story is all about. Because Dayashankar has his eye on Jaya for his son Shiv. And Ratan’s mother wants Ratan to marry Jaya because Maya has proved barren. And Doctor, after all, is an allopathic doctor, who has no faith in homeopathy and no idea, either, that a careless word against homeopathy can set Gokul’s back up. And Doctor’s inability to follow unreasonable demands to shun the fisherfolk means that Dayashankar will soon have even more reason—beyond the Jaya angle—to resent the young man.

Not a very well-known film, not even the outright comedy some people have called it, but a nice little film nevertheless, that needs to be better-known than it is.

The characterizations. The plot is simple and uncomplicated, but what really made this film for me was the way the characters are etched. While Ratan’s mother and Dayashankar are the villains of the piece, neither of them is completely bereft of all conscience, so they aren’t the outright villains one sees in the average Hindi film. And two characters—Gokul, and Ratan—are in particular brilliantly multi-faceted.

Gokul, for one, is a crotchety old homeopath, so devoted to his medicine that he won’t hear a word against it. He gets so angry at Doctor for questioning his knowledge of homeopathy that he throws the man out and refuses to let Jaya give him food. And yet, when mealtime comes round, Gokul himself starts fretting—how will Doctor survive if he won’t eat? Where will he eat if Jaya won’t give him food? —that it’s obvious this man’s got his heart in the right place.

Then there’s Ratan, who—fond of his toddy though he is, and certainly not one of those pillars of rural society—is one those people who, brusque and disrespectful and whatever else he may be, also has his heart in the right place. And is loyal to a fault. Loyal to the doctor whom he makes friends with so quickly, and loyal to the wife, too, who (horrors!) hasn’t given him a child yet.

While on this topic of Ratan and Maya, there’s a poignant little scene which perfectly illustrates their relationship. Maya, harangued and pestered by her mother-in-law (who even goes so far as to name to Maya exactly whom she has in mind for Ratan as a second wife), finally says, in despair, ‘Very well, I will let him marry Jaya.’ She even smiles and nods her assent. When Ratan comes home, his mother comes rushing out excitedly and tells him of this new development. ‘Go and ask Maya for yourself,’ she says—and when a stunned Ratan goes to Maya and asks her, she confirms it.

Ratan only has to look into her face searchingly, and he knows. And she knows that he knows. She has said it only to please his mother, to stop the barrage of insults and haranguing. She does not want him to marry another woman; and he—despite his many arguments with Maya (notably, none of which are about her inability to conceive) —only loves Maya, no-one else. They don’t have to say it; it’s obvious in their expressions, and in the way Maya flings herself around his neck and sobs while he holds her. Good characterization, and good acting.

I find it interesting, too, that the two romantic leads of the film—Talat Mahmood as Doctor and Mala Sinha as Jaya—are not really the central characters of the film. They’re there, they’re easy on the eye, they’re the ones who sing the romantic songs, and around whose romance the film revolves, but ultimately, the main characters in the film are Ratan and Gokul. Unusual, in a Hindi film.

What I didn’t like:

The sudden somewhat melodramatic turn the film takes in the last half-hour or so. It isn’t bad enough to qualify for the ‘curse of the second half’ (and it’s redeemed by its resolution having elements of humour in it), but still.

50 thoughts on “Ek Gaon ki Kahaani (1957)”

Let me add my 2 cents. “Ek Gaon ki kahani” was almost a remake of “Shohor theke dure”. written and directed by Sailajananda Mukherjee. Mukherjee was a well known author cum director in the 1930s-40s, and I remember him writing in the 1960s and the 70s as well. Have read a few stories in children’s magazines, esp the Puja Barshokis.

It was also remade by Tarun Majumdar in 1981, I recall the date when I saw it, Jan 2, 1982, as it was a cousins birthday.

Dulal Guha entered films as a poster designer / painter :), and so horrified by his first product, as the legend goes. I am not sure how much of this is true. Know his youngest son, can ask. I’m very fond of Do Anjaane, his best film IMHO.

Thank you for the recommendation, Anirudha! I shall look out for Shohor Theke Dure – from what (very little) experience I’ve had of Bengali films remade in Hindi, the Bengali ones are invariably better than the Hindi remakes. So this should be worth looking for. Oh, and also Do Anjaane, which I’ve heard about, but never got around to watching.

I am curious about why Dulal Guha was horrified by this. I thought it a perfectly nice little film. Not the commercial blockbuster type, but fitting very much into the sort of film that people like Bimal Roy or Hrishikesh Mukherjee would make. Do, if you can, ask his son if that was what happened – and why the horror.

I saw this film some time ago when I was on a sort of a mission to see the films Talat had acted in. I got through Waris, Ek Gaon Ki Kahani, & Sone Ki Chidiya before realising what the movie-going public of those days had unerringly spotted — that Talat’s good looks were more than matched by his wooden acting. After that, I gave up and went back to enjoying his singing. All through this film too, I kept wishing the director had cast someone else in his place. Yet, when the film ended, I forgave him everything for the movingly, beautifully rendered “Raat ne kya kya khwaab dikhaaye”. The film itself, I’ve always felt, was in the “not bad” category. Johar’s was the standout performance. Mala SInha’s was, as usual, effortless & charming. Yet, for all that, EK Gaon Ki Kahani remains the “Raat ne kya kya…” film.

That’s a coincidence – I discovered this film, too, when I was on a Talat-watching spree. I happened to get hold of Ek Gaon ki Kahaani with great difficulty (I initially ordered it from Seventymm.com, with whom I was a subscriber for video rentals, and they sent me a 1975 film by the same name!). I finally managed to see this on Youtube, and that too only recently.

I do agree that Talat’s voice and looks were far better than his acting, but then (from the films of his that I’ve seen), I think even film makers realized that. All the films you’ve named, for example – this one, Sone ki Chidiya, Waaris – actually don’t have him in very large roles. Sone ki Chidiya has Balraj Sahni as the actual male lead; in Waaris, Talat pretty much disappears halfway through the film, leaving the stage for Suraiya and Nadira; and in Ek Gaon ki Kahaani, too, as I’ve mentioned, it’s really Abhi Bhattacharya and IS Johar who hold centrestage. I’m guessing film makers too saw that Talat may be good as eye candy (and of course that wonderful voice!) but couldn’t really be expected to carry a film on his shoulders.

…except possibly Lala Rukh, which is as much a Shyama film as a Talat one, and one of my absolute favourite romance films from that period. Sweet!

The minute I saw the title – Ke Gaon ki kahani – the song – Raat ne kya kya khwab dikhaye rang in my mind. I liked Sone ki Chidiya (not strictly a Talat film, but he is there) and Lala Rukh. Wouldn’t mind seeing this for the nice movie that you say it is and getting a chance to look at his handsome visage.

Very very nice review Madhu didi! Thank you for choosing a rare movie like this one. I got to know about this movie only when I heard the song Raat ne kya kya khwaab but IMDB had a very vague synopsis about it.
Although I do not think the movie is on par with some of the others made by Bimal Roy if we consider rural movies in general at least Ek Gaaon ki Kahaani doesn’t focus only on the clash between the city and the village like most films of the era (some Tamil films I’ve watched are soooo preachy). It reveals that village life and society could be as turbulent as any day in a city. Dulal Guha must be appreciated for that.
But thank you once again for the post didi. I honestly loved it.

Thank you, Rahul! I’m glad you liked the review. Yes, Ek Gaon ki Kahaani doesn’t rank on the same level as some of those classic ‘rural setting’ films – my favourites include Parakh and Godaan – but it’s still a good film. What I do like about it is that it is not as unrelentingly depressing as (say) Mother India. There is tension and anger and all, but the overall spirit is one of brightness. It’s actually pretty well-balanced that way… closer to a Parakh than to a Godaan. Do try and watch, if you can.

Yes I will watch it! And I’ve always wanted to see Parakh as well. I loved the way the song O sajna barkha bahaar aayi was picturized. Thank you didi for the two suggestions.
I also read your review of Housefull (the book of course hehe) and realised that I still have a long way to go if I have analyse a book objectively. I never realised there were so many mistakes! You’ve opened my eyes honestly.

Heh. Yes, Housefull was a bit of a disaster. I admit though that I am possibly more nitpicking than the average reader – the editor in me always comes to the fore when I’m reading a book, so I have less patience with errors than perhaps most other readers would.

This is one of the films I watched quite a while back. I must confess that Talat as an actor doesn’t do much for me, but he’s so good looking and so charming, and in the film at least, as you pointed out, it is not so much about him as it is about everyone. Your review makes me, like Ava, want to watch the film again. I’ve recently begun to change my opinion of Mala Sinha, as you can see by my latest post. You make the film sound very endearing. :)

See Tarun Majumdar’s version of “Shahar theke dure” (in case it has subtitles) . It is a well made film and quite funny too. Majumdar and Tapan Sinha were Bengal’s Basu Chat and Hrishikesh (I think they were better than their Bombay colleagues, given that they had to make films within stringent budgets)

Yes! Talat’s easy charm and good looks let him get away with a lot. You do realize, while watching a film like this, that he really was no good as an actor (but not as utterly useless as some others…). But. And, as you’ve mentioned – and I’ve written more on this topic in my reply to Milind Phanse’s comment, above – it seems most of his films were really more about other people than his character. With the exception of Lala Rukh. So possibly film makers too realized that.

But yes, this film is quite endearing. :-) I liked it!

Oh, and by the way, about Mala Sinha. I’ve forgotten which blog reader it was who commented that they couldn’t stand Mala Sinha being chulbuli. Which I completely agreed with! When I was watching Ek Gaon ki Kahaani, it occurred to me that while Jaya is supposed to be a somewhat tomboyish, mischievous girl, Mala Sinha manages to strike the right balance – she’s sweet, funny, yet not OTT.

I believe Mala Sinha and Mumtaz have always never really got their due as actresses. Their bubbliness (not to mention ‘hotness’) has tended to divert attention from their spontaneous, natural and seemingly effortless acting. Madhubala was another such, but in her case you could hardly blame the audience for being dazzled by that magnificent, unsurpassed beauty.

Talking of Madhubala, it wasn’t just the audience that was dazzled – so were her co-stars! I remember seeing (or reading, I don’t remember which) a very sweet interview with Shammi Kapoor, in which he talked about working opposite her in Rail ka Dibba. He said he kept forgetting his dialogues every time he was in the same scene as her – one look at that gorgeous face, and he’d forget his lines!

I agree about Mala Sinha and Mumtaz – I think both of them tend to be underrated as actresses (though in Mala Sinha’s case, I think a lot of the films she made – Hariyali aur Raasta, for example – were terribly melodramatic ones that tended to have her weeping through most of the film, not a good way of establishing one’s credentials as an actress). But you just have to see her in films like Pyaasa, Bahurani, Dillagi, Aankhen and this one to realize just how versatile she could actually be.

Yes, I’d read that interview too. If I remember correctly, he goes on to say that she smiled and tried to put him at ease, saying something to the effect that she understood what was happening, that it was perfectly natural, and not to worry. Considering Shammi’s later uninhibited ways, he must have taken her advice to heart. ;)

Thanks for this review, Madhu. I watched EGKK at a time when I did not like Talat Mahmood (as an actor) and Mala Sinha. So barring Raat ne kya kya khwab dikhaye, do not remember much.

Like Anu, who is now changing her opinion about Mala Sinha – I changed mine quite a while back! Though Talat as an actor is still not a no-no… Btw, after you told me about Lalarukh, I have got it. Now need to watch the movie…

Do watch Lala Rukh, at least, Harini. It’s such a lovely little film – and Talat is so handsome and Shyama is so gorgeous. :-) (Yes, you can see I love that film!) I do hope you’ve got the right version – the Friends VCD I got lopped off the all-important climax. :-( There’s the correct version, the complete one, now up on Youtube.

I have been wanting to see this film for a long time ever since I heard the song raat ne kya kya… Wondered what other songs might be good in this movie since the only one appearing in many collections is “raat ne kya kya”. Thanks for the review and the link to watch the movie. Looks like a nice one. Insomnia food :).

Thanks for your pointers to sleep ! Reading is still my no. 1 hobby, however when I start a book, I don’t know when to quit :( so I still read thru the night. I should pick up some boring ones, perhaps course books from college days !

I have a medical problem which is exacerbated by insomnia, so for me not being able to sleep can cause real havoc. So, even if I’m reading a book that’s unputdownable, I have to put it down! Try Seneca: so good for bedtime reading. A friend had given me a copy, and all it needed was two pages, at the most, to send me to sleep. ;-)

Talat Uncle as an actor was, well,not at all up to the mark. Personally as a singer too as you already know I never did like his vibrating voice, but one thing I noticed about his acting and that was, his decent and gentle personality always seeped through on screen, no matter what his onscreen character was.

” his decent and gentle personality always seeped through on screen, no matter what his onscreen character was.”

That’s such a sweet thing to say! And I agree about his character always seeming gentle and kind – which is why, perhaps, even in a film like Sone ki Chidiya, where he was the ‘villain’ (so to say), I found myself still not hating him outright.

As I am watching the movie, I am remembering that I have seen it many moons ago on DD. It is still quite enjoyable as I don’t remember the entire film. I do like I S Johar in his crazy roles ( not always ) but mostly, a man of many talents. Talat was good looking and quite pleasant in this role.

IS Johar, I think, was another of those underrated actors. He was actually pretty versatile – look at what vastly different roles he played in films like Nastik, Shagird, Safar and Pavitra Paapi (not to mention this one, of course). Plus, what a lot of people raving today about Irrfan Khan and Anil Kapoor etc getting roles in Hollywood tend to forget that IS Johar acted in several American and British films long back. In fact, the New York Times review of the Stewart Granger film Harry Black and the Tiger actually went so far as to say that IS Johar was the best thing about the film (and I agree – his character was the only one I really liked!)

Jumping on the IS Johar Bandwagon here. Yes, very underrated, he was one of the few Hindi comedians that I really liked. Didn’t know until recently that ISJ was nominated for BAFTA for Harry Black. My fond memories of ISJ are from “Aaj ki Taza Khabar”, a 1973 movie directed by Rajendra Bhatiya.

I used to read his witty Q/A page in Filmfare magazine when I could ( at relative homes:)) since movie magazines were a no no at our home. When I saw Nastik (1954), I was surprised that he wrote and directed it. He was quite quirky in Nanak Naam Jahaj Hai. Recently, reading about him in Wikipedia, I found a coincidence with our family. My mom’s family also came to Patiala for a wedding never to return home because of partition. I have not seen Harry Black, will watch it for sure.

That’s an interesting anecdote, Neeru! And, I hadn’t known IS Johar wrote for Filmfare – he was a very versatile character, wasn’t he? Incidentally, I was also pretty surprised when I discovered that he’d written and directed Nastik (not to mention Chandni Chowk and Afsana).

If you haven’t already seen North West Frontier (I think it was also called Flame Over India – it starred Kenneth More and Lauren Bacall, among others), do try that as well. Overall, a far better film than Harry Black and the Tiger, and IS Johar does have a substantial role in it too.

I finally finished the movie. I see what you mean by the last half hour, as if they were in a hurry to fit the movie in the required time. From all the different characters in the movie, I liked Dulari’s role. Down to earth and not afraid to speak her mind regardless of her brother being the do all president of the village. In spite of everyone who wanted Jaya to get married to the a Doctor, she comes through. I have been noticing her acting in several films, she was quite an accomplished lady. ” bole pichu pichu pi papihara” used to get a lot of radio play besides “raat ne kya kya khwab dikhaye”.
I am glad you reviewed it, nice movie.

Madhu,
While Talat Mahmood has an iconic place as a singer, I was somewhat confused about his status as an actor. There is his ‘official’ website, managed by his son, which tells us that he was God’s gift to acting, and all his dozen films were blockbusters, and everyone else who says that he was a disaster, and his films were commercial duds. Therefore, I read your review with some special interest to find out the truth. As I read along, it seems it was quite a good movie. Now the reason is also clear, it was about everyone else other than Talat. Milnd Phanse confirms what is the general view about his acting. Yet, here is one film I would not be deterred from watching, thanks to your nice review.
AK

Ah, well. I am not surprised that Khalid Mahmood’s site (I’ve visited it, too, so I know what you mean) talks of Talat as God’s gift to acting. If I remember correctly, there’s quite a bit of stuff over there about the India-wide search for an actress good enough to star opposite him in his acting debut Dil-e-Naadaan.

To be honest, I thought Ek Gaon ki Kahaani, Lala Rukh, Sone ki Chidiya and Waaris (I’ve long since forgotten Dil-e-Naadaan, which I saw as a child) were all fairly good films in their own way. But that merit was not thanks to Talat’s acting – it was because of generally good storylines, good music, and other factors (like, in Lala Rukh, a gorgeous and accomplished lead actress). It’s obvious that when film makers made films with Talat, he wasn’t the focus.

If you were to believe Khalid, then all that is needed is to elevate Talat to sainthood. :) I mean, I like the man, and from all accounts, he was a complete gentleman, but if you only knew of Talat from that site, one would think he was a cross between Laurence Olivier (acting), Adonis (looks), and whoever is the male equivalent of Mother Teresa, apart from being God’s gift to mankind for his singing. :)

This is a nice film, though like other Talatsaab films, it was not a big hit. Anyways it was a Talat film only in name because in my view, it was an out and out Abhi show, backed by I.S ji and Bipin Gupta. As far as i am concerned, i chiefly remember this film because of two things-1) Raat ne kya kya khwab dikhaye song, which has a very distinct and unique horse beat to it. This tonga song is very very different from the usual hindi tonga melodies of Nayyarsaab, Naushad or Pankaj Mullick and is a prime example of how Salilda would do the usual in the most unusual way.
2) Dulal Guha’s debut- Dulal Guha alongwith Lekh Tandon, is the most underrated and unsung director of hindi cinema. I particularly love his Do Anjaane, Dushman and Pratigya. I would also recommend his 2nd film i.e. Chand Aur Suraj (1965) wholeheartedly, which apart from Guha’s able direction, also boasts of a stellar cast in the form of Ashok Kumar, Dharmendra ,Tanuja etc , and lovely music by Salil da.

Aniruddha da is spot on about this film being a remake of Sailajananda’s Shohor theke Durey. Infact many of Sailajananda written and directed bengali films were later remade in hindi and other languages. Examples include- Pankaj Mullick starrer Doctor/Daktar ( based on his story and later remade by Shakti Samanta as Anand Ashram), Mane naa Mon (remade in hindi as the melodramatic Dilip Kumar starrer Gopi) and Bondi ( remade in hindi as Bandi). Infact, since you liked EGKK, i would recommend Bandi too, which was released in the same year and was directed by the famed Satyen Bose, who also happens to be the producer of EGKK. :)

Thank you, Raunak, for the Bandi recommendation! I don’t seem to recall having even heard of the film before. Will search it out. Don’t know when I’ll get around to watching it – life is astonishingly busy these days – but I probably will, one of these days.

Just wanted to come back here and say I watched the film again – Talat’s character was such a wimp, no? He made me want to insert a broomstick where his spine should have been. If I were the woman who had the misfortune to fall in love with him, I would have been tearing my hair out in frustration.

But I must agree that he looked good. :)

I also agree with Raunak that it was more of a Abhi Bhattacharya movie – and he was pretty good too as the village wastrel with a good heart. I really, really liked his interactions with Nirupa Roy and I also liked that the latter had so much more gumption than she usually was allowed to show.

Yes, I thought too (as I mentioned in my review) that it’s more Abhi Bhattacharya’s and IS Johar’s film than Talat’s or Mala Sinha’s. While they get top billing and are ostensibly the leading pair, the more interesting characters are definitely the other two men.

And such a relief, too, to see Nirupa Roy being something other than the martyr, for once!